


The disease

by Anonymous



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AU, AU - no girlfriends or kids, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dubcon/Noncon, Fuck Or Die, Just an inappropriate comparison, M/M, PWP, mild blasphemy, mostly fluffiness, no violence tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6373126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a weird disease going around. When you touch a fertile man, you have a sort of shock, like static electricity. Then, in a few days, you either have sex with that man or you die. Leo catches the disease, and Cristiano has to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT EDIT: I changed the summary. Apparently I created some kind of confusion about what this fic is about. I am sorry about that.
> 
> Hello everyone! Yes, I am the same anon of "A question of lust" and I _should_ been working on the next chapter, but this fic stuck in my mind and decided not to release me until I would have written it. So yeah, here it is: Easter present! I have written it very quickly, so I am afraid that the English would be even worse than usual... sorry about that. If you noticed any mistake, please let me know, it would be very appreciated. This is just the typical fuck or die situation, but I hope that you could enjoy it. In my mind it is set some years ago (especially because of a little detail of Leo's personal life), but it is not related to any specific point of the real time-line. Kudos and comments are making my days :3

When the security man told Cristiano who was on the gate he almost could believe it. He hadn’t spoken to Pique for years, he couldn’t imagine any good reason why he should do it at that moment. 

Not that there were enemies. Their team were, and the way in which Geri felt all the issue of Barcelona-Catalonya-Catalans wasn’t helping, but they were not friends, as well. No more. Right at that moment, they were just two strangers to each other.

“Sir? Should I let him in?”

“Yeah… Yeah, let him in,” he replied to the headphone, and went to the kitchen to grab a couple of normal and ginger beers.

Pique was troubled, that Cristiano could see. Maybe they were no more in a close relationship but he could still read the language of his body, and that line of his mouth, the way in which he was fixing a point in the wall couldn’t be misinterpreted.

Still, Cristiano wondered why he should come and speak about his troubles with him.

“How is your wife?” He asked tentatively putting a beer in front of him on the table. He still couldn’t believe that he ended up with _Shakira_. The first time he heard that he thought it was a joke. But Geri in himself had always seemed to be a living joke, so he guessed it made some kind of sense.

Geri looked at him puzzled, as he wasn’t expecting the question. So Shakira was out of the table of the possibilities. “Fine,” he confirmed, before running a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I am here to talk about Leo,” he eventually burst out.

“Messi?” Cristiano asked, sitting on the opposite part of the table.

Drinking a sip from his beer was just a way to hide his emotions: Cristiano was surprised, and not in a good way. The fact that he _had been_ –plusperfect- a friend and even more for a short period of Geri’s life didn’t necessarily mean that at that moment he would be happy to talk about the annoying little “perfect golden boy” that was complicating his career in so many ways. To be fair, it was not really Messi’s fault: the midget was always so quiet and out of this world that he could really have been easily taken by a robot or an alien. But all the rivalry farce built up by the journals, the continuous comparisons, all of that was just so annoying, useless, bad distractions from Cristiano’s aim of just being the best, as he had always aimed since his childhood, when the name Messi didn’t mean anything to him.

To be honest, he didn’t mean anything also in that moment, and Cristiano was just really annoyed to be surrounded by people that wanted to remind him the existence of some good football player called Messi that _should be_ so important in his life.

“He caught that freaking mating disease.” Geri burst out.

“Oh.” At that moment Cristiano could perfectly understand why Geri came to him, considering their past.

It was spreading all around Europe. The scientists didn’t really have an explanation for that, but they hypothesised that it may be linked to the low rate of pregnancies in the so called first world, a sort of natural preservation of species, even though, overall, the number of humans was increasing, just in other parts of the world. They called it “mating decease” but it is not even sure if it was a virus or a genetic mutation. Anyway, it worked like this: if you were a woman and took the mating disease, when you touched a fertile man, you would have a sort of shock, as the geo static electricity. Then, in a few days, no matter if you were using pills or other contraceptives, you would ovulate and you would notice a dramatic increase of the vagina mucus. Within a week you would need to make sex with the man you touched and you would get pregnant. Otherwise, you would die.

The point was that, for some kind of reason, some few men recently were having the symptoms of the mating disease. Obviously they could not be pregnant, but still they would produce mucus, only from the back. And they still had to mate if they didn’t want to die. Sometimes, nature is a weirdo.

It was clear, then, not only the reason of Geri’s visit, but also why he was so troubled. Without too many roundabout expressions, Geri was big. It took them weeks to manage to work that out, and Messi was such a little thing… In addition, Geri had always worshipped the midget. He had always been talking about him even at Manchester times, as he was his little baby brother, or a puppy he adopted. Certainly, not someone that Geri would ever even think about having sex with.

Cristiano really sympathised with him, even though he was afraid that there was very little that he could do for him.

“I… Have you ever been with another man after me?” He dared to ask.

But Geri looked puzzled before fixing him with a blank face and speaking very slowly.

“Cristiano, he caught it during _El classico_.”

And that was when the simple, quiet life of Cristiano Ronaldo crumbled down.

“Oh.”


	2. Chapter 2

Even though it was the room of a private clinic, it was still undoubtedly the room of a hospital. It was too warm, too clean, and still, behind the smell of the cleaning products there was the scent of disinfectant.

The winter sun was half filtered by the thin white contains, giving to the room a dim light that created the atmosphere of a sort of a fairy tale, as Cristiano was there to save the princess with the power of a kiss.

Except, it wasn’t exactly a kiss what Cristiano was supposed to do, and Lionel Messi could hardly have been considered a dame in distress.

Although, the small figure sit on the bed with his back on the headboard and his legs on his chest was very far from the little devil that Cristiano was used to meet on the pitch.

He was wearing one of those white nightdress used in the hospitals, and looked so pale that could have easily been taken for a ghost.

Cristiano asked himself for the millionth time if he could really do it, but then gulped and closed the door behind you: he had never been a coward.

No matter how delicately he pushed the door, the click sounded loud in the unnaturally quiet room, and Cristiano saw Messi jerking out of the corner of his eyes. This was not going to be easy.

Cristiano turned to him with his best attempt of a reassuring smile that never fade in the short path from the door to the bed but it was hard, while Messi was silently studying all his movements.

“Hey,” he whispered as he sat in front of him. Cristiano didn’t know why, but he had the impression that even speaking loudly would have shuttered the entire room apart.

“Hey,” the other replied with a faint of a smile, but at the same time he pushed his legs closer to his body. 

Cristiano could not help to notice the gesture, and it hurt. It hurt because no matter the rivalry, no matter how annoying he had always considered him, he would have never, ever wanted to hurt him.

"Lionel,” he started, but it was interrupted by the other.

“I'm really sorry to have you put in this situation.” It was hard to capture an emotion under the quite, over polite tone in which he was speaking.

“It’s not your fault, OK? I doubt that if you could have a voice you would start a thing with me in this way,” he smiled.

It was probably a bad attempt of joke, but at least it was an attempt, but the other simply shake his head, and the smile of Cristiano froze. He wasn’t doing anything to break the tension. And the way in which he was constantly looking at Cristiano, with those deep eyes, wasn’t either helping. Cristiano has never noticed how dark Messi eyes could be, and how they looked big, in the contrast with his pale skin. Having those eyes on him made him feel under x-rays and he needed all of his courage just to make another attempt to break the tension, reaching out for him and grabbing his hand. “Listen, the fact that we have do this doesn’t necessarily mean that has to be horrible, ok?”

Lionel looked down to their tangled hands and nodded, silently. 

Cristiano looked at them as well. They managed to make their first contact, and Messi hadn’t refused that. It was a starting point, and so he moved his thumb over the back of his hand, to try and see how it feel to caress his skin. He was burning hot. Surely it was the effect of the disease, and if he counted correctly the days after the _classico_ , that might be one of the last days they have to cure him.

“Don’t worry, Cristiano,” the other said, again with that detached, polite way. “I am used to bear pain, and you should know it very well,”

“But it doesn’t have to hurt! I don’t want to hurt you!” He pried his head to push him closer and raised the other hand, to caressing his hair at the side of his head.

He remembered Geri endlessly instructing him about how much Leo loved the cuddles and caresses, so he should have been delicate and sweet. And, indeed, there was a moment of surrender, as Lionel closed his eyes at the touch. But it was just a moment, the second after he was already shaking his head.

“Thank you. It’s very kind of you. But it is not necessary, we just need to do what we have to, and then…”

“We don’t,” he stopped him. He had been assertive, but without raising the tone of his voice. In fact, they were both almost whispering, all the time, still scared of breaking the world apart just with their voices. “We could make it better. I can make it better.”

He closed the distance to kiss him, and it was clear that that was unexpected by Leo. But he was pliant at his touch, parting his lips to him. 

Too pliant. It was quite obvious that he was just letting Cristiano do what he wanted.

Cristiano interrupted the kiss, still remaining there, cradling the sides of his head, trying to capture any little emotion from Lionel’s blank expression.

“Is this ok for you?” He asked in a whisper. 

Lionel shrugged “Whatever makes you more comfortable.”

“For God’s sake, you are not making it easy, you know?” There was more distance between them at that point, and it wasn't only physical.

“I am sorry, I…”

“I am not a rapist!” In fact, speaking loudly had broken the room, because the silent that followed was very different from that fairy tale atmosphere of the beginning. 

Cristiano felt embarrassed of revealing too much of himself, but he had never been good in hiding his emotions. You get what you look with Cristiano at and he couldn’t change that.

After a little moment of hesitation, Lionel’s eyes widened in understanding: obviously he remembered the darkest moment of Cristiano’s life. It was too widespread over all the newspapers’ front-pages: the accusation of sexual harassment by two women, the detention, the interrogatory.

Cristiano had hated all of that so much, being accused to be the opposite of what he really was, a man of honour, sometimes even too brutally honest, to the point of being arrogant, but never ever prone to go against his own principles.

Except that now he was there, about to touch someone that wouldn’t have wanted. And Cristiano simply didn’t know what to do.

“I am sorry,” Lionel repeated, getting closer. “I am only a bit scared. But I know you will be good. I know that you are a good man. Geri likes you and if he likes you, I can trust you, because Geri is one of my best friend, and I trust him.” He explained.

Something broke inside Cristiano when he heard Lionel admitting that he was scared, and by the fact that he was being the one reassuring Cristiano. He felt the urge of hugging him, and he was again surprised of his body. It was not something evident on the pitch: Lionel was too fast, too powerful, too full of energy to really, _really_ be looked at how he was. And in that moment, having him in his arm, Cristiano had a sudden awareness of how much small and fragile he was, like a little bird. Yes, he could fly, but how easy it would be to breaking his wings.

He tightened the embrace, kissing the hair. “I… uhm… this is not my first experience with men,” he felt the need to admit, provoking a questioning sound from the other.

Cristiano moved from him just as little as he needed to look at him in the eyes. “I am telling you this because I wanted you to know that I know what I am doing, right?”

“Ok…” 

His expression became more brooding, and Cristiano half hoped that he was about to say that he had his experiences with men, as well. That would have made everything so easier. Not better, there wasn’t really a way to make their situation “better” in any sense, but at least it would be easier, if Lionel knew what he had to expect, more or less. 

But, of course, he shook his head, destroying every little hope of Cristiano. And, of course, that was not even the end of the story.

“Actually I didn’t… I have never… with anyone…” he added reluctantly, and Cristiano just froze, stupidly in shock, unable to articulate a word. He then remembered the rumours. It wasn’t something very clear, because people were not very inclined to talk about their personal lives, but there was a theory about the fact that the mating disease was more likely to affect virgins, if not solely. It had a sense. A sick sense, but a sense.

“Stop looking at me as if I were an alien. I am not the most social person, right? And then, when everything changed in Barcelona, and everyone was crazy about me, I couldn’t understand who I could trust. I mean, I don’t like the idea of having around someone just because I am famous, also because there is no particular reason to be famous, I just play football and who may be really interested to someone that just play football.”

“Hey, stop now.” He put an end to his rumbling ruffling his hair. “There is no need to justify yourself. It’s ok, and I perfectly understand. It’s not easy to find someone to trust in our weird world.”

“I sorry if I am making things even more difficult for you,” he muttered, suddenly interested in how he could crumple the hem of his nightdress.

“I said stop torturing yourself. It’s not your fault, it’s not my fault. We just need to face it in the best way as possible and stop feeling guilty for things that are out of our control, ok?”

Lionel nodded. Still with his gaze down, still unconvinced, but he nodded, and Cristiano released a sigh. He had really never noticed how younger he looked like. It made him feeling sick, like he was an old satyr approaching an innocent youth. This was so unfair. Nobody, ever, should be forced to have their first time in that way and as long Cristiano wanted to be delicate, and sensitive, and whatever was in his power to make things better for Lionel, he couldn’t erase the sense injustice that he was feeling, as he moved his hand from his hair, to his face, down through the line of his body, reaching the edge of his nightdress.

“Lionel,” he called.

“Call me Leo. I think that under the circumstances, you can call me Leo. My friends call me like this,” he murmured, but still unable to rise his eyes. But it didn’t matter, Cristiano wouldn’t force him to look at him, if Lionel… Leo was not comfortable with that.

"Ok, Leo. We need to… make things to you before. We need to prepare you so that it would be the easiest for you, ok?”

“I have already… they already prepared me. They put me… a thing so that I am… I am ready for you,” he explained with his quiet tone, even though the bright red of his face was revealing his discomfiture.

Cristiano felt guilty. Because he was looking at the pale skin of the thigh under his hand, and that thin cloth that was covering a body all ready for him, open and wet, just for him and his own cock was throbbing only at the idea of that. That hadn’t been fair for Leo, and he hoped that they treated him with all the care that he deserved, but Cristiano would be damned if nevertheless he couldn’t be starting to be affected by the entire situation. Ok, at least he was _supposed_ to be arisen, if they wanted to make that work.

“Good,” he rasped before clearing his voice.

“It’s still there,” Leo added then in a breath.

“Oh. Do you want… shall we took it away?” He skimmed his hand up, under the dress of Leo, revealing more skin. Only skin. There was no underwear. And when he reached the base of his ass Cristiano almost gasped for the surprise. He was a serious professional, when he was playing he wasn’t there to check the bodies of his rivals. But he could have never imagined that Lionel Messi was hiding such a gorgeous, plump ass under his oversized uniform. 

Leo was looking down, as well, carefully checking his movements. “I think it would be better if you prepare yourself first.”

“Prepare me?” He asked half distracted by the body under his hands.

“You clothes.”

“Oh. Ok.” He managed to divert his eyes from Leo’s legs to find him fixing him. Cristiano felt like he was caught with his hand in cookie jar.

Cristiano sighed and smiled a tired smile. He was drained by all this tension and embarrassment, and he needed to do something here and now. “Come here,” he said, before pulling him closer and kissing him again. This time he took all his time, to proper lick his lips, and his tongue, savouring him, feeling how he was melting in his arms with a content hum. Although the fever, he tasted so good. There was this little, devilish thought peering the head of Cristiano. Maybe Lionel hadn’t even kissed anyone before, maybe he had been the only one experiencing him in that way. Once again Cristiano felt that mixture of excitement and guilt.

When they finally interrupted they were a little breathless. Leo was blushing again, but this time he was also smiling and Cristiano for the first time felt a little relieved. He framed his face, linking their foreheads together.

“You know? You are not too bad.”

“Shut up,” he said, but he was still smiling, and he didn’t moved away when Cristiano kissed him again, with his hands wondering under his nightdress, to caress his hips.

He carefully moved he back, so that he was laying again to the head of the bed, and then he carefully studied his face, deciding the next move. He didn’t want to scare him again, not when he was finally relaxing a bit, but they both knew that they have to go on.

“Lionel, do you prefer me to turn the light off?” he asked, caressing his hair out of his face.

“No. It’s ok. But can you… do you think we can do it without undress me? I am wearing nothing under my dress.”

“I know. I noticed,” he grinned, making Leo to blush again.

But Leo was also smiling a cute smile, biting his lower lip, which was good. Even too good, but Cristiano didn’t want to indulge in that thought too much.

“It’s ok, but does it bother you if I undress completely?”

“No, I think I would prefer it. It would seem less…” the words failed him. Cristiano could imagine what he was thinking. Less fake, less sleazy. 

“Ok, let me do it, then,” he kissed him lightly one last time and distanced himself the little necessary to complete the operation.

The rustle of his clothes was loud in the otherwise silent room. Usually Cristiano would be happy to put on a show, and strip slowly, playfully, tempting. But not that time: that was not the right occasion. All he wanted to do was going back kissing and cuddling Leo, as quick as possible. 

Said Lionel was mostly looking down again, but Cristiano caught him peering at him from time to time. When he removed his boxer he was biting his lower lip again, but Cristiano couldn’t guess what he was thinking. 

And he didn’t care as he finally grabbed him and kissed him again, pressing their bodies together. It was clear that Geri was one hundred percent right. Leo adored to be touched, caressed in every inch, kissed all around his face. He loved to nest himself in Cristiano’s chest, nosing his neck, and he looked even smaller with his fists closed over Cristiano’s body. 

He was having an effect on Cristiano, and he couldn’t have denied it at that phase. He had never felt so important, so powerful, and still with so much desire to protect, to do the right thing. This was intoxicating him. He was exalted and scared at the same time, but in some way his fear was also increasing the excitement. 

But it was obvious that Cristiano was the one that was taking decisions, there, and he needed to take the right ones. So, he grabbed Leo and flipped them, so that in the end it was Lionel the one who was saddling him.

Leo looked down at him with such a confused face that Cristiano almost laughed. 

“It’s better like this,” he explained. “In that position you will be in charge. You can take all your time, and do what do you feel is the best for you.”

“Oh. Ok,” he said, and Cristiano couldn’t help but wondering if he would have been so pliant in any case, or if it was only due to the particular situation. He was almost surprised to realised that he was actually really interested in that question. In the willingness of learning how Lionel Messi would be in bed under normal circumstances.

But then he was distracted by Lionel’s hands palming his chest and nosing his neck: he reminded him in some way a puppy that was exploring the world for the first time and he smiled out of tenderness. But he couldn’t denied the shivers that the touches were producing over his body, and the constant need to coming back to his mouth, kissing away all the doubts.

Cristiano decided that it was the moment to go a little further and skimmed his hands over Leo’s legs, lifting the nightdress that little that he needed to reach the butt plug. And this time he gave a proper grab to those gorgeous butt cheeks making Leo squirming. 

“Has anyone told you that your ass is a masterpiece?” He grinned.

But Leo didn’t look particularly impressed, and Cristiano kicked himself. No matter how much he was starting to enjoy it –because he was, and at that time there was no way he could hide it – it was still complicated, and definitely it was not the right time for dirty talks.

He kissed an apologised, and came back to a sweeter, more delicate touches, caressing his backside until he found the toy. He asked a permission with his eyes before removing it, making Leo hissing. 

“Is it ok?” He carefully asked between kisses, and Leo nodded, before kissing his cheek.

Cristiano soon substituted the object with his finger, delicately massaging his entrance. He was dripping, in a way that Cristiano didn’t expect. It was hot. Everything about Leo, about the situation was intoxicatingly hot, in spite of how much wrong it was. He couldn’t help but deepening the touch, slowly inserting the finger.

Leo froze, but only for some brief seconds, before devouring again Cristiano’s mouth, who sighed relieved feeling that there was no tension coming from the other body. 

As for the rest, Cristiano left Leo taking all the time that he needed. He waited and waited until he was the one that was nudging his ass against the erection of Cristiano.

“I think… I guess I can do it,” he whispered, and Cristiano nodded reassuringly. 

He set himself with just the head of Cristiano at the entrance and suddenly his expression changed, assuming the same determination he may have just at the beginning of a match.

Cristiano felt his own hearth hammering. He desperately wanted to do or say something right, something that may help him to feel better. He wanted to say how good he had been, and that he was sure he would be great even when real sex will be happening, but he wasn’t sure that that was what Leo needed to hear. Instead, he caressed his cheek lingering on his lips, but Leo refused also that gesture, shaking his head. And then there was no more time for Cristiano to worry or thinking how to cheer Leo, because he was slowly, relentlessly going down.

It was hard, really hard for Cristiano to maintain control, because he had never experience something like this. Of course he was thigh, considering that that was his first time. But he was thigh and hot, unnaturally hot for the fever, and humid, as no man has never been. He was heaven, and then Leo had crossed his arms around his neck and he was biting his neck, sucking his skin between his teeth.

“God, Leo,” he breathed, unable to keep quiet. Leo was moving like a tide, he was slow but consistent, taking the entire length all the time, savouring the new sensation within his body. And he was obviously liking what he was feeling, because Cristiano could feel the bulge of Leo pressing on his stomach. 

Cristiano decided that that deserved some attention, as well, and he slid a hand under his nightdress to touch him, gaining a soft bite of pleasure on his neck.

Then there was the need to kiss him everywhere, kissing his shoulders, his neck, his head, and touch him, of course, skimming his hand through his spine, nuzzling his nape, making Leo feel how much he was… just… perfect.

A part from that little detail. Because at that moment Cristiano wanted to see, as well. He wanted to look at his hard nipples, to admire how his muscles moved under his skin and, with a jolt of possession, he wanted to witness the marks that he was surely leaving on his fair, delicate skin.

Cristiano knew that Leo had been clear about that, but he couldn’t help the annoyed sound every time his gestures were somehow hindered by the nightdress, or when his lips where finding the cloth instead of the skin.

He couldn’t bear anymore. He moved back a little, just enough to ask permission with the eyes, as he slowly lift the nightdress. 

Lionel froze, with still Cristiano inside him. His torso was moving for the pants, but a part from that no other movement was done, as he was cautiously studying the action of Cristiano. But he didn’t stop him, and he didn’t say anything as he let himself to be undressed. For the millionth time Cristiano asked himself if Lionel would have been so malleable in bed, in another situation, with someone else. But the idea of some stranger controlling Leo in that way would be unacceptable right at that moment, so Cristiano put the annoying little thought apart.

The nightdress was simply tossed away without any care, as Cristiano was relishing what he just revealed, moving his hands over his torso like St. Thomas over the resurrected body of Jesus.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured in ecstasy. For some kind of reason, that was what made Leo uncomfortable and what made him shifting away.

Cristiano’s worries were all back, all of a sudden, and he felt the urge to kick himself. He didn’t know what he made wrong, but something wrong had obviously been done, and he felt like he could have broken that magic suspension that they were living.

“I am sorry Leo,” he pecked little kisses over him, but he was still having a blank face. “Do you want me to cover you again?” he finally asked, and he was already grabbing the blanket. It would be an enormous pity, a sacrilege, but Cristiano was happy to do it right and there if this could make Leo smile again.

Nonetheless he shook his head, covering Cristiano’s hand with his own. “It’s ok. I am fine. Can we just change the position? I feel like I don’t know what I am doing.”

“You are doing great, Leo,” he kissed the side of his mouth. “But it’s ok, if that is going to make you feel more comfortable.” 

Leo nodded, still a little embarrassed, so Cristiano applied a little turning pressure over his shoulders, making him flip and laying on his back. Maybe it would have been more comfortable if he had been on his knees and arms, but Cristiano felt the need to constantly check on him, so he didn't even take into consideration that option.

Cristiano set himself between his leg, while he grabbed a cushion to adjust behind Leo’s back. “This would help,” he explained to a Leo that was still studying his movements.

When he finished he really, properly looked down at Leo. He was laying down motionless, with his arms at the size of his face, his hair a messy dark crown spread over the cushion, a thin layer of sweater that was making his skin even more diaphanous. The only signs of life were his deep breathes and those big, attentive eyes. It was hard to remember that he wasn’t there for him. Lionel was there, hard for Cristiano touches, with his legs open spread for him, but _he wasn’t there for him_. 

It hurt too much. Cristiano didn’t want to see the reality. He wanted to worship him because he thought he simply couldn’t go without it. So he bent down to set a kiss on Leo’s forehead. “You are beautiful,” he needed to repeat nevertheless, because he needed Leo to believe him. And this time he didn’t have the occasion to reply, because Cristiano was sliding into him again, with one, fluid movement.

It was hard to keep moving slowly, he was being hard for so long that it was starting to hurt, but he would never force the things with Leo.

Never forget to cuddle him, and caressing his hair, and kissing of course, because it was obvious that Leo liked the kissing part a lot.

Don’t let it go, not yet. Cristiano was delicately grinding into him, exploring his body, finding the right angle to make Lionel to really enjoy it. 

The sudden cry that Lionel shout at a specific movement would have been almost funny, if it wasn’t for the way in which he fixed his nails on the shoulder blade of Cristiano.

“Better?” he mouthed over his ear. The next movements, more desperate and uncoordinated were enough of an answer. 

Cristiano slid a hand behind him, to push their bodies closer, and he could then feel the cock of Leo throbbing against his stomach, and his thighs lifted to surround his body. 

Cristiano was feeling the urge to having more and more, to the point of losing control together with all the fears, the doubts, and the guilt.

When Lionel came, he arched his entire body, shouting Cristiano’s name and that was enough for Cristiano to could not keep it any longer, and he released inside him, with a low, animalistic growl. 

Cristiano collapsed on Leo and slowly regained the awareness of the world surrounding him. The light was much feebler at that moment, but the room was still very quiet, a part from their noisy pants. Leo was playing with his curl, almost in a comforting way, and Cristiano was melting at the touch, realising that Lionel was not rejecting him even though he wasn’t needed anymore. At least, he wasn’t rejecting him yet. 

There was the taste of the salty skin of Leo over Cristiano’s mouth, and the air now smelled a mixture of sweat and sex. But still, it tasted good. Leo tasted good. 

Cristiano felt so fucked up, but he still wanted to kiss Leo, and so he did, but he only dared to peck his cheek, lifting up on his elbows to not crushing him.

“You are cooler now,” he stated.

Leo nodded. “It worked, I guess. Thank you.”

 _It was a pleasure_ Cristiano was really about to say it, but manage somehow to stop in time. Although he wasn’t famous to prevent himself to say stupid things that he would regret just from the moment they were out of his mouth, this time, at least, he succeeded to be not a total jerk. Lionel had liked it, that had been pretty obvious, but that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t even necessarily mean even that he liked men, forget specifically him. He could have had merely a body reaction, maybe even triggered by the disease, and Cristiano was totally aware of this.

Nevertheless, Cristiano was pretty sure that that was not the case for himself, and he felt really, really in trouble.

He flipped on his back, to not crush on Leo anymore, but he attempted to roll the other so that he would lay on his side. Even though there was not a real point to keeping body contacts between them, Leo was still there, with his head resting on Cristiano shoulder, and fist closed on his chest. Cristiano could feel his own heart accelerating just for the awareness of Lionel still close to him. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, kissing his temple.

“Mmm… I could be worst. It could have been worst.” He replied with a joyful tone looking up to him. He was blushing again, but had a new, cheeky smile on his face, that made Cristiano agape. That wasn’t expected, but indeed it was a very, very good surprise. 

Nevertheless, the little hesitation that he had was misunderstood by Leo, who was then panicking. “I am sorry; I don’t know what I was thinking.” He was struggling away, but Cristiano was rapid to keep in him in place grabbing his arms.

“You are right to apologise,” he smiled. “That was much more than “could have been worst.” That was an A+.”

That was the turn of Leo of being agape just before he widely smiled, with the tension visibly evaporating from his body. Cristiano had never felt more proud of himself.

“So,” Leo said with an adorable little pout, landing back on Cristiano’s chest. “You are telling me that that was your best? That I couldn’t expect anything more?”

Cristiano had felt for the little, scared Leo that he had met in that room earlier that afternoon, but he was really adoring that little cheeky devil he was discovering now.

“Test me,” he said, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer for another kiss.

But Cristiano was sorry to witnessed that when they separated, Lionel expression was troubled again.

"What’s up?” He asked

“What are we doing?” He asked in a whisper, sitting on his thighs.

Cristiano lifted up following him, never stopping to play with Leo’s locks. He simply couldn’t stop touching him, as he could fade away the moment he lost contact with him. “We can do whatever you want. What do we want, without the constrain of a stupid disease that made us acting too fast. Listen, it was obvious that there had been a sort of connection between us, at least from a certain point.” 

Lionel nodded, but he still didn’t look very convinced by Cristiano’s words.

“Why don’t we try and see if that connection is worthy? Why couldn’t we try to bring with us something good from this experience?”

“Because… do you think we can do it? Considering who we are?”

“And who are we, who couldn’t try to know each other a little more, and maybe enjoying some time together? Trying to be happy.”

“Don’t pretend ignorance. We are…” he gestured exasperated.

“What? Footballers? Rich? Famous? Handsome? I still can’t see any problem.”

“I am not… anyway, this is not the point. We are not simply football players who play in Barcelona and Real Madrid. We _are_ Barcelona and Real Madrid. All the expectations, all the…”

“Bullshit. We are Cris and Leo. What the other people want to put on our shoulders doesn’t count a shit. It’s not worthy, Leo. What we could be, what we could have… I think that is worthy.”

Leo kept quit for a while, pondering the words in his little head, but Cristiano didn’t hurry him. He silently waited, carding his messy, soft hair. He knew he sounded almost desperate and he himself couldn’t properly understand what happened to him. Yes, ok, sex was good, but there had been something about Leo, his tenderness, his shy curiosity, that had put him on the edge. And if the talk they had earlier had some sense, well, Cristiano was the perfect person for Leo. At least, he wasn’t a gold digger. They would be able to see each other for what they really were. And the little that he had seen of what Leo was, was more than enough for Cristiano to think that it was worthy a try. He wanted him.

But Leo was still obviously in trouble, judging from the way he was torturing his lower lip. “Are you sure that you… I mean… Do you really… like… _me_?”

He had said it as it was out of the reign of the possibilities, and Cristiano remembered some little hints that he had caught, about some security problems of Leo. He didn’t know where that came from, but Cristiano was already planning to fix that as soon as possible. For the moment, he framed his face, forcing him to look him in the eyes, and test the sincerity of his words. “Yes, I like you Leo. You already managed to charm me and I am looking forward to be with you again and again.”

Lionel was bright red, but didn’t looked away and slowly nodded, before giggling embarrassed. He was still giggling when Cristiano covered his face with dozens of little pecks. Lionel crossed his arms behind Cristiano’s head and the laugh was soon replaced by a kiss on his neck. Cristiano was sure that he couldn’t change his mind anytime soon.

 _Geri is going to kick my ass until the end of the world_ , he though, before searching for Lionel’s mouth.


End file.
